


stained

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Everyone is tired, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Stiles, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, I'm Bad At Tagging, Im tired, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SO SORRY, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has Nightmares, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Stiles is tired, THIS IS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL, Void Stiles, after nogistune, after void stiles, im hungry, oof, stiles need a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 14:41:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17830499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There’s something so satisfying about the way that blood moves, how it trickles and webs its way along skin like newly forming veins on the wrong side of the body.orStiles is not okay after the whole nogistune incident (like really not okay).Warning ya now it kinda bloody and gory so if that's not your thing don't read it please.





	stained

There’s something so satisfying about the way that blood moves, how it trickles and webs its way along skin like newly forming veins on the wrong side of the body. First, it would bubble up from pinpricks or gashes before suddenly losing all sense of form and spilling over onto flesh, staining everything that it touches, leaving reminders of memories better left forgotten.

Reminders...

Stiles realizes somewhere along the way  ~~on yet another sleepless night~~  that the horrendous liquid seems to leave reminders everywhere. The skin under his nails itched for days after with dried blood and gore, constantly bringing him back to late nights, swords and shoulders feel real against calloused hands as quiet begging rings too loud in his ears. If he thinks too hard about it, he can still remember the feeling of how his best friend’s insides twisted around a sword. They had started to grow and repair themselves immediately, but sharp metal is still stronger than werewolf organs and every movement sliced mending flesh. Scott's screams and shouts will slowly quiet down until they become pathetic whimpers as tears, snot and saliva fall and force his loud cries to be reduced to muffled sobs. The tormented noises play on repeat inside of Stile’s mind.

 ~~Every night~~  Sometimes, Stiles will clamp his eyes shut as dead, rotting hands cling to him and try to drag him down. These corpses wear the faces of Allison and every other person he hasn’t been able to save, there are dozens of bodies. Occasionally Scott will stand beside Allison, their hands clasped together as they bleed through the fabric of their shirts. They stare at Stiles with uncaring eyes as he is dragged away by his own guilt. Blood fills his nightmares too. It trickles and pools around his feet, the stench of iron strong in the air is enough that he can taste it on his tongue. But Stiles can’t even  ~~run away~~  shift his feet because the sound of old sneakers squelching in blood is enough to force him awake as he gags and dry heaves.

Waking up from said nightmares is usually filled with hoarse screams and a frantic counting of fingers through tearful eyes. His dad has all but given up on assuring him that he is awake and instead looks at him with pity filled eyes and a wonder for where his little boy went.

**Author's Note:**

> yikes
> 
> at least im trying


End file.
